Confession
by InnerEssence
Summary: Sam's got a confession


He stood in her office with steel in his eyes.

"Carter, I haven't seen you in days." He said in a short clipped voice.

She could tell that he was angry; could hear the anger barely contained in his voice.

If she looked at him she knew she'd see his jaws clenched the muscle ticking; she'd find him standing stiffly as if he felt that any movement would shatter his self control; she knew the heat that would be in his dark eyes.

But she didn't have the guts to confirm her suspicions.

Instead she kept her eyes, unseeing, glued to the microscope in front of her. God… she wasn't ready for this confrontation. Not now…not here.

"I've just been really busy, sir" she replied, turning to her papers still avoiding eye contact.

Without seeing she sensed him bristle at her obvious avoidance. She hoped he'd leave it alone. Just take the lie and let them carry on pretending.

Pretending that everything was fine, that the only reason they were seeing less and less of each other was their hectic timetable.

"So busy that you can't even make time for lunch?" he asked vehemently.

Of course it was too much to ask, that he let this go. And suddenly she felt anger rise inside her too. He knew what the problem was, he knew why she'd withdrawn but still he insisted on pushing this. What was he expecting from her! They never discussed these things and for good reason.

Her eyes flashed and at last she met his gaze with anger of her own.

"Yes! I have been that busy!" she replied refusing to get into a debate.

But Jack O'Neill was never one to back down. He leant over the desk separating them, levelling his eyes with hers. He could still see the outrage and anger smouldering in their sapphire depths.

"We kissed carter." He stated.

For a split second he saw the anger in her eyes metamorphose into shock, before they flickered away from his. She'd never expected him to bring that up so openly. It wasn't what they did. Usually they buried such things in the darkest recesses of their minds and did their best to forget.

"It was a mistake." The rage had left her voice leaving it flat.

He laughed at that, without a trace of humour, a hollow sort of laugh. "Yes…yes it was a mistake. But it said a lot."

She slipped off the stool and turned away from him. In two big strides he'd come around the desk, gripping her arm he turned her to face him.

His face was a mask of stone, devoid of even the fake humour that had been there only a second ago, and suddenly he was deadly serious.

"So you've been avoiding me?" he challenged.

Her answer was swift and false, "No!"

"Yes!" he countered tightening his grip on both her arms, forcing her almost against his body. So close that her own treacherous body tingled in anticipation… so close that she could feel the heat of his animosity.

Her hands came up reflexively to lie against his chest. To push him away or pull him closer she didn't know…

"Yes, you have! You've been avoiding me and you're avoiding this…this … thing that has been silently growing between us."

"There's nothing between us Colonel, there can't be." She emphasised his rank, trying to remind him of all the reasons they couldn't be doing this.

Instead of what she'd expected to see, a ghost of a smile touched his lips. As if he'd worked out that, this was her last defence- hiding behind their positions.

"Throwing my rank in my face isn't gonna work this time Carter. It's just an excuse. Forget the ranks for once and tell me then, if you can honestly say you feel nothing...Tell me that there's nothing between us."

She pushed him away with her hands trying to get out of his grip and escape but he just tightened his grip, to the point where it almost hurt... like a threat.

"Tell me!" he ordered more forcefully.

"There's nothing between us!" she answered quickly, too quickly still avoiding his eyes.

He wasn't convinced.

"Look me in the eyes and say it…say it like you mean it!" He loosened the vice like grip on her arms but kept her firmly against him.

She shook her head unable to find the voice with which to answer.

"Tell me…" his voice softened, "tell me that being this close to me does nothing to you."

She heard the change in his voice and met his eyes. The anger in them had changed into something else, something with no less heat but not so hard, like molten lava.

"Tell me...' his voice cracked with the emotion. Swallowing he tried again "Tell me you haven't craved my touch as much as I have yours."

This time it was he who looked away.

Sam hadn't realised when the hands on his chest had curled to grip his shirt. She hadn't realised when the tears had built in her eyes that were now rolling silently down her cheeks.

Then with his voice not above a whisper he said, "Tell me once like you mean it. And I swear to God I'll never bring this up again!"

With a little sob the tension left her body and she fell into his arms. She had no strength left with which to deny.

And with her first confession he showered kisses along her jaw and neck. Frantic kisses filled with gratitude and need. She spoke low and fast. Almost unaware of what she said only knowing that she meant it.

"God yes, yes, I've craved your touch…always. And this is killing me…please…I can't anymore, I can't pretend."

It was total surrender, bindings of duty and honour eclipsed by the sheer force of her feelings.

"There's always been something there, always … as sure as the wind," with that final confession their lips met.


End file.
